


Never Liked the Rain (Until I Walked Through it With You)

by Melacka



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Antagonism, F/F, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Femslash, Rain, Truce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29084886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melacka/pseuds/Melacka
Summary: Pansy finds herself caught in the rain in Muggle London. When the only help available comes in the form of Hermione Granger, what's a witch to do?Antagonize her, of course!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Pansy Parkinson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51
Collections: Bulletproof 20/21





	Never Liked the Rain (Until I Walked Through it With You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vendettadays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vendettadays/gifts).



Pansy hated it when it rained. She always seemed to have terrible luck on rainy days and things just never went her way. She’d suddenly start stepping in puddles, or trip over barely visible cracks in the pavement, lose important items of clothing or get into absurd, unnecessary arguments with complete strangers. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear she was cursed.

She did know better, of course. The very thought was absurd. What self-respecting witch cursed someone to suffer minor inconveniences every time it rained? Although, she had to concede that it would be an absolutely _brilliant_ way to drive someone crazy. No one would ever suspect a thing.

Not that she’d considered it or anything.

So, cursed or not, Pansy was on edge every time it rained, and she tried very hard not to read too much into any strange and inexplicable happenings throughout the day.

On this particular occasion, she was trying _not_ to think about the fact that she was stranded in Muggle London, with no simple way to return to civilization. She had travelled there under protest with the very clear understanding that she would not be left to find her own way home. She was unfamiliar with these parts of the city and had been struggling to apparate safely in recent times.

Another inexplicable inconvenience that she tried very hard not to think about too deeply.

She walked quickly up the strange street, searching desperately for any sign of magical life. Any friendly face, any fireplace connected to the floo network, any owl that could send a message. But there was nothing. She was completely stuck and steadily getting more and more soaked with every passing minute.

A rumble of thunder had her stopped in her tracks, staring at the sky resentfully. If this went on much longer, she’d be forced to apparate and just hope that she wouldn’t splinch herself too badly.

She sighed and kept walking, not noticing the woman walking towards her until she nearly collided with her.

“Oh, sor—” she started and then looked up, her mouth dropping open. “Granger?”

“Parkinson,” Hermione returned smoothly, before taking in her bedraggled state with a shocked expression. “What are you doing here? Walking around Muggle London in the rain isn’t something I’d ever expect you to be caught dead doing.”

“I was here for _work_ , Granger,” Pansy snapped. “I’ve only just started a job at the Ministry and my boss brought me here.”

“Your boss brought you here?” Hermione said sceptically, looking up and down the street. “What department are you working for?”

“The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes,” Pansy said proudly, jutting her chin out and almost daring Hermione to pass comment. She noticed that Hermione had casually moved closer to her so that they were both covered by the umbrella. It almost made Pansy want to thank her.

_Almost_.

“I suppose that there _may_ have been an accident around here,” Hermione said doubtfully, still not looking at her. “But I don’t think there’s a strong magical community in this area, at least not that I’ve noticed.”

“Well, I was told to come here and then my boss just left and I don’t know how to get back!” Pansy said in a rush before she could stop herself. “I was going to apparate but I’ve splinched myself the last three times I’ve tried and well—” She trailed off with a little helpless gesture. “Here I am.”

“Hold on, you’re saying that your boss left you?” Hermione repeated, now looking confused. “Knowing that you wouldn’t know how to get back?”

“I’m sure he just forgot,” Pansy said weakly. “He said he’d be right back.”

“How long ago was that?”

“An hour, maybe.”

“And how long have you worked there?”

“It’s my first day.”

Hermione winced, looking almost sympathetic as she said, “I think they may have been playing a little joke on you.”

“A what?”

“A joke,” Hermione said again. “You know, a prank. Maybe this is what they do for all new recruits.”

“Or maybe,” Pansy said, her shoulders slumping, “it’s because it’s _me_.”

“It’s possible.” Hermione reached out a hand and tentatively grasped her shoulder. “It’ll get better.”

“Don’t patronise me, Granger,” Pansy spat out. “I don’t need your pity!”

“I don’t pity you,” Hermione replied coldly, removing her hand. “You’ve enjoyed a lifetime of significant privilege in the Wizarding World and you chose the wrong path. You’re facing the consequences of that choice, so no, I do not pity you at all.”

“Oh.”

“But despite that, I don’t agree with your boss playing with you like this. Not when you’ve only _just_ started.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Pansy snarled, looking murderous.

“Oh, I think you know what I mean.” Hermione smiled sweetly. “I merely mean that given enough time, you may give him reason enough to treat you like this, in which case it will, of course, be justified.”

“There’s that famous Gryffindor justice in action.”

“Call it what you will,” Hermione said calmly, “I stand by it. Now, how about you come home with me? You can dry off and then use the floo to get back home.”

“I—” Pansy began, an automatic rejection ready on her lips. “I don’t know.”

“Do you have another plan?”

“No,” she admitted, trying to smile.

“Then at least come inside while you figure it out. I’m freezing out here!”

Hermione abruptly started walking down the street, taking her big umbrella with her. Pansy watched the rain fall steadily for a moment before admitting defeat and walking quickly after her.

“Granger! Wait up!”

“Call me Hermione, Pansy,” she said, arranging the umbrella again so it easily covered them both. “We can go back to surnames tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Pansy agreed with a tentative smile, “Hermione.”

“My place is just up here,” she replied, gesturing with her free arm. “The one with the green door, you see? We’ll soon get you comfortable again.”

Pansy doubted it. She didn’t think that she would be truly comfortable until she could get back to her own home and put this wretched day behind her. When Hermione ushered her into her home, Pansy tried not to stare too much.

“I’ve never been in a Muggle home,” she said quietly, standing awkwardly in the entrance, painfully aware of her dripping clothes.

“This is a Muggle neighbourhood, Pansy,” Hermione said over her shoulder as she extracted a towel from a cupboard. “It is _not_ a Muggle home.”

“Of course, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” Hermione sighed, handing her the towel with a grim smile. “But it’s okay.”

Pansy took the towel, smiling uncertainly.

“I’ll get you a dry robe to put on,” Hermione continued, bustling away to what appeared to be her bedroom. “You can get changed in the bathroom and I’ll get a fire going. You can warm up before you leave.”

“Hermione, it’s fine—”

“It is _not_ fine, Pansy,” Hermione said briskly, striding back into the room with a plain black robe over her arm. “You were out there in the rain for far too long and you really must warm yourself up before you leave. I absolutely insist.”

Hermione handed Pansy the robe and then started shepherding her towards the bathroom.

“You’re quite bossy, you know,” Pansy muttered.

“Yes, I’ve been told that,” Hermione said, sounding almost proud, grabbing another towel as they passed the linen cupboard. “You’ll need one for your hair.”

“This really isn’t necessary, Hermione,” Pansy protested weakly. “I’ve got my wand with me so I can just use magic to dry my robes and then I’ll be out of here.”

“If you prefer,” Hermione said, shrugging slightly to show her indifference, still holding the towel. “But I’ve always preferred the feel of a nice clean towel, myself. Especially since you’ve been caught in the rain so long.”

“It wasn’t _so_ long.”

“Long enough to get thoroughly drenched,” Hermione replied tartly. “Now, if you want to martyr yourself to this idea that you can _never_ accept help from your nemesis—” Pansy snorted loudly, and Hermione smirked. “You may always continue to shiver and freeze on the doorstep. I promise to leave you in peace, should you choose that option.”

“And if I don’t?” Pansy prompted.

“If, however, you can admit a small amount of hospitality from a sworn enemy such as myself.” Hermione paused dramatically for effect and Pansy raised her eyebrows in impatience. “How about a cup of tea?”

“A cup of tea?” Pansy echoed dumbly.

“Surely you’ve heard of the stuff, Parkinson.” Hermione playfully tossed the towel at her head. “It’s really quite popular these days. Come on, I’ve got some biscuits as well.”

“Biscuits?”

“I know you must be simply overwhelmed by my brilliance, Pansy, but that’s no reason to repeat everything I say.”

“Brilliance?” Pansy scoffed, chucking the towel back at Hermione. “I would have to respectfully disagree.”

“Respectfully?” Hermione said, a wide smile stretching across her face. “I wouldn’t have thought you capable of behaving respectfully.”

“Oh, I think you’d be surprised to see what I’m willing to do for a good cup of tea and some biscuits.”

“Really?” Hermione took a step closer and boldly held Pansy’s gaze. Her voice dropped lower as she said, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Pansy gaped at her as Hermione strolled away, humming lightly as she went. She looked down at the clean robe in one hand and the towel in the other. And then, bowing to the inevitable, she went to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

After all, gracious acceptance of a _small_ amount of hospitality on this _one_ occasion was perfectly acceptable.

Even from a sworn enemy like Hermione Granger.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who reads/leaves kudos/comments!


End file.
